


all the umbrellas in london

by skypointing



Category: Big Wolf on Campus
Genre: his general opinion of tommy is that he is a complete idiot and i am inclined to agree, the wolf is a secondary character and no one can tell me any differently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-10
Updated: 2011-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-27 04:19:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skypointing/pseuds/skypointing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It happens when they’re recuperating in the Lair after a particularly trying encounter with something Merton keeps calling a kelpie (“I don’t understand, though!” he’d wailed as the horse-like creature had shaken out its dripping mane and stamped at the ground, preparing to charge them again, “This isn’t Scotland! There’s not even a lake around here! Come on!”).</p>
            </blockquote>





	all the umbrellas in london

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't my first story in this fandom, although it is the most recent, and i probably like this one most. this is, however, my first fandom, and it's very dear to my heart. i've loved this show since it aired and though i occasionally stray off, it continues to calls me names until i return.
> 
> i hope you enjoy.

It happens when they’re recuperating in the Lair after a particularly trying encounter with something Merton keeps calling a kelpie (“I don’t understand, though!” he’d wailed as the horse-like creature had shaken out its dripping mane and stamped at the ground, preparing to charge them again, “This isn’t Scotland! There’s not even a lake around here! Come _on_!”).

They’d come out of it mostly okay, although there are a few places on Tommy where the kelpie managed to make contact, and they tingle irritably like the time he accidentally super-glued two of his fingers together. Merton says it should wear off eventually, and Tommy believes him, but it’s still pretty annoying, and because of this he hasn’t been able to de-wolf, even though the fight was hours ago.

He’s pacing the length of the room, back and forth, and there’s some stupid zombie movie playing and he really _is_ trying to pay attention, but—

“Tommy,” Merton says, and Tommy’s eyes snap to him. He doesn’t stop pacing. “Tommy, what’s wrong with your neck?”

Tommy gives Merton an odd look and starts to ask him what he means when he realizes he’s scratching at a little spot on his collarbone. Now that he’s aware of it, the spot itches pretty badly, and hurts as well, and he assumes he’s been picking at it for a while now. He forces his hand to his side and wriggles his nose, frustrated. “I don’t know, man. I guess it’s from that stupid horse thing. Itches, though.”

Merton rolls his eyes in a fond sort of way and begins digging in his desk drawer for something. “You gotta tell me these things, Fido.” After a moment, he produces a little tube from the drawer. “Sit down; we’ll see how well kelpie magic stands up to the power of cortisone cream.”

It’s difficult, because all he wants to do is _move_ , but Tommy manages to take a seat on the couch. One of his legs starts bouncing, and he glares at it, which does nothing. Merton, getting up from his desk chair, does his best to hide his smile. He moves to stand in front of Tommy, unscrewing the cap of the tube as he does so.

“Okay,” he says, amusement clear in his voice, “I’m just going to put a little dab on. It’s near your neck, but don’t freak out, okay?” He does a little gesture towards himself and puts on his best Tarzan voice. “Merton good. _Friend._ ”

Merton’s too busy giggling quietly at his own joke and squeezing a dot of the cream onto his finger to notice the look of confusion on Tommy’s face. “Wait,” Tommy says, and Merton blinks at him. “Why would I…”

He trails off. Merton continues to just look at him, and suddenly Tommy feels like an idiot for even asking. He clears his throat and almost starts scratching at his neck again. He stops himself just in time. “Why would I freak out about you touching my neck? I trust you.”

Merton blinks again and cocks his head, his small smile one of hesitance. “You’re a werewolf, Tommy. _Wolf_. An extremely dominant animal. Granted, we’re friends, but considering you’re still wolfed-out I just didn’t want to trigger that instinct.”

Tommy just stares at him, still confused. He doesn’t even think before his mouth opens, he just says, “But I trust you.”

Now Merton’s starting to look kind of uncomfortable, like he knew this conversation would happen at some point and he’s been trying to avoid it. “Look,” he says, quieter now, “I’m trying to play nice with your furry side. I didn’t want the wolf to feel…threatened by a dominant gesture, by getting near your throat. I would be expecting it to submit, which it shouldn’t have to, obviously, I mean…” He stops and his eyes flicker away, quickly, and he coughs. “You know? I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Tommy is struck with something he feels like might be vertigo, and for a moment, he can’t see the Lair, or Merton, or anything. All he can see is part of a nature show he remembers, from God-knows-when. He remembers two wolves, one clearly the alpha, the other crouched, belly low to the ground, whining, submissive. And he remembers that wolf rolling onto its back and baring its neck, and waiting. The alpha had considered it and, after a moment, closed its teeth around the other wolf’s throat. Not enough to hurt it, but enough to make the point.

The image swims away and Tommy can see the Lair again, and Merton, who’s staring at him with concern and also possibly fear. This upsets Tommy more than anything, and somewhere, in the pit of his stomach, he knows what he has to do. He stands, slowly; Merton seems frozen in place, and doesn’t step back. They end up within inches of each other, and Tommy feels like he’s buzzing with electrical current.

He reaches out to take the tube of cream from Merton, who lets him, and tosses it behind him to land on the couch. He takes a deep breath.

“Merton,” he says, and Merton flinches as if he’s been struck. Tommy’s throat constricts. “I’m not—I don’t know what you expect me to be, mad or whatever, but I’m not. I just need you to understand.”

And then he steps completely into Merton’s personal space. Merton’s staring up at him, wide-eyed. There are so many ways this could go wrong, Tommy thinks, but he tips his head back, exposing his throat. He closes his eyes and he waits.

He hears Merton let out this little sound, like a gasp, and time stretches on. Tommy feels the tips of his ears burning as he waits. He starts to think this has backfired, and then he hears the rustle of Merton’s clothes as he moves. Another stretch of time, possibly an eternity, and Tommy has to keep himself from jerking backwards when he feels the tip of Merton’s nose brush his collarbone. There’s a pause, like Merton’s gauging his reaction, and then Tommy feels a brush of lips at his pulse, warm breath stuttering against his Adam’s apple.

If Tommy felt electrified before, now he feels like he’s drowning, like he’s suffocating, like he’s on fire all at once. Something curls, warm and pleasant in his stomach, something like arousal but so much more. When Merton very, very gently places a kiss on that little itchy spot, Tommy knows what the extra feelings are, and he feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

Maybe he’s gained a little courage, or maybe he just understands now, but Merton buries his face in the crook of Tommy’s shoulder and neck and just stays there, breathing deeply. Tommy lets his head fall forward until spikes of hair tickle his nose, and he carefully wraps his arms around the other boy. In the back of his mind, he notes that his skin is tingling for a completely different reason now, and that at some point, he’s de-wolfed.

They stay like that a long time. 


End file.
